


Oxford Comma

by uro_boros



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boarding School, M/M, School Uniforms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 02:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2605061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uro_boros/pseuds/uro_boros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi’s knees are knobby and pink, their color interrupted by the presence of neutral-colored bandaids slapped on them, the dissonance in tone almost jarring against the pallor of his skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oxford Comma

Levi’s knees are knobby and pink, their color interrupted by the presence of neutral-colored bandaids slapped on them, the dissonance in tone almost jarring against the pallor of his skin.

Levi’s a boy of contrasts, really; finely boned but thickly muscled, sharp-elbowed and sharp-tongued. His hair is inky and the spill of it across the desk is smooth, but it’s surprisingly coarse to the touch when Erwin plays with it. His knuckles are a painter’s palette of the shades of bruising. He’s a terrible, terrifying, troublesome boy, but his toes and fingers curl as Erwin sucks him off. 

"You’re too good at this," he murmurs, back arching as Erwin hums around him. He sounds breathless; his voice is another one of those contrasts, low and pleasant in the rare moments that he actually speaks, and here, in the closed-off detention hall, the stilted quality of it is magnified, bouncing back off the walls in reverberation. "Suck cock on the regular, class president?"

His cock slides from Erwin’s mouth with a wet noise. The picture they make must be lurid: Levi’s shorts half-unzipped, his cock red, the translucent beading of come at the tip of it. Erwin’s on his knees in front of him, his tie not as neatly knotted as it had been an hour ago. “Does it matter to you if I do?”

He smiles—it pulls at the aching muscle of his cheek, throbbing in soft memory of Levi’s punch. His nose feels crusted with dried blood from their earlier fight.

"Yes," Levi says darkly, gathering himself up on his elbows. "I want to know if I’m going to catch any diseases."

"You’re not." He licks at Levi’s cock, tracing the thick vein along its underside; there’s a shuddery exhale from above him, but other than that, Levi remains oddly rigid, still upright on his elbows.

"You sure take your sweet fucking time. The teacher could be back at any moment," he says. His mouth is pursed, his eyebrows pinched—Levi isn’t attractive, in any conventional sense of the word.

Here is the story: three months ago, he stood at the front of Erwin’s class and introduced himself in a tersely-worded sentence that had included his name, the name of his last school, and at the teacher’s insistence, his favorite color. The uniform had been, and still is, too big on him, its sleeves settling around the tips of his fingers rather than his wrists: he takes to wearing it pushed up, but it doesn’t disguise that his frame is compact and likely to stay that way. He’s picked fights with anyone who’s willing, and from the rumors, has won them all.

Levi straddles a precarious position: everything about him is utterly underwhelming. Something about him suggests he knows this and is railing against the fact.

Erwin finds him captivating.

His skin is fresh and soapy where Erwin tastes it.

Levi pushes an impatient foot against his shoulder, tugging at his hair with small, nimble fingers. “Come on,” he says, pulling Erwin’s head down and back to his cock. His fingers slide by one of Erwin’s ears. “You have big ears,” he comments, a little nonsensically. The comment strikes Erwin, for reasons he doesn’t really understand.

He knows Levi wouldn’t accept the tenderness of a kiss to his fingertips. He wants to do it, despite this. Next time, he thinks, and settles for a kiss pressed quickly to the inside of one of Levi’s shaking thighs before swallowing Levi’s cock. 

He lets Levi guide it. It’s neat until it isn’t, until Levi’s thrusts are poorly-timed things, more intent on orgasm than on curbing mess. Erwin’s lips feel raw, his jaw sore; drool and come gather at the corner of mouth. His eyes sting. Levi cusses in steady, increasing volume until his hips buck one final time.

His taste is heavy and bitter on the back of his tongue. Erwin finishes himself with a hand fisted inside his shorts, quick and efficient, as Levi’s chest flutters with his uneven panting.

"I was going to help you," Levi says after he’s done, quietly, head lolling on his shoulders. His hair clings to beads of sweat on his forehead. 

"I like you," Erwin tells him simply. They must still make quite a picture, except Erwin doesn’t know what kind of picture they make now, as everything cools between them. His orgasm feels tacky in his hand.

Levi flinches. ”You should pick someone better.”

"You should, too," he sighs.

Outside, the wind whistles. Levi’s hands tremble finely as he does up his fly.

But: he kisses the remains of come off Erwin’s palms and his voice is steady as Erwin cups his chin. “I won’t regret it if you won’t,” he suggests, lips curling just slightly. Erwin kisses the furl of them and feels dangerous.


End file.
